Cardinal Sins
by A-Delicious-Cake-Recipe
Summary: In the wake of the departure of John benedict XVI from the Vatican, the head cardinals must pick from the most qualified of the few, in that group being Roger.


**Decided to post because my friends and teacher said it was good. Thought I would share :D I didn't really put too much thought into the little things**

**because this was a school assignment. Got the idea from joking around with some friends at our table. On another note, I don't know much about**

**Catholicism and I'm sorry if I was wrong in how the pope is properly picked.**

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Rays of psychedelic spectrum produced by the Tiffany window panels above, grazed the promising cardinal. The eye of God was now closing for the

evening but even without particles of light for the wrinkling eyes of the all holy Roger, he still sat in the front bench. Where the only evening rays

were from a wax candle stick that seemed to have been lightened with hell's fire, for its ability of burning for almost forever. His leering into the void

for an answer he already knew was only allowing the alluring vampire named the present, to suck away more of his life-force. Folding skin from his

hands and smoky hazed pupils all from age reminded the holy figure of his mortal frame, that he would soon have to face the beast.

'Til now it had been long since Roger even managed a daydream of the island. Being sent to a catholic school right after being recused was the only

way his parents knew how to help their sadist son. For the most part in worked. Roger had developed a way to combat the demon within himself,

letting the all so great and powerful divine from the heavens above lead him out of his darkness and into the colorless loving light of faith. The island

to him was an enquiry of evil. A time when he couldn't control his demonic soul which lead to the deaths of two of God's lambs.

_But God forgives all his children._

one side of Roger couldn't bare to back flash to the ordeal of the death of Simon. But the other would gladly torture the pseudo-saint with the

thought. The screaming, the dancing, the flesh tearing, ripping memories all haunting Roger. Dark eyes stare up at the cross and he says a quick

pray to terrorize the terrible beat within him. He's up for becoming the newest pope, the most honorable of all titles any catholic could hold, the

worst sin he could commit if he were to take the position.

Roger allowed his inner evil force to let him lie this far, for even he didn't want all his hard work to go waste. But the colorless light that had guided

him this far wouldn't allow him to taint the title of pope.

They fought and Roger could hear them, as if revelation started within this old man's mind. The evil figure hissed like a snake, teasing its tongue to

torment the white light. The good figure spread its wings weary with will wanting woe from the darkness.

_but what if you're not?_

A sinister snicker snakes throughout Roger's brain. Roger knew that it was the work of all who lay claim to the beast. He thought to himself.

_Then whose am I?_

The thought whispered back.

_Not whose; but what._

A pause then...

_You're just another fly in my rotting head._

The old man's heart beat like it did when it was rolling a rock off the side of castle rock so many years ago. Malevolent laughter fills his mortal ears,

ratting ramping within Roger's aurora.

_I'm better than you, I'm more powerful than you, God is..._

the laughter sputtered.

_But you are mine and mine forever my dear sweet child, just look at you; you can't even deny a title you aren't worthy of. You're whole life you _

_have served me, you have taken respect and praise that if anyone knew what you were, would have never considered you for the achievement. _

The cardinal spoke no words.

_Do not deny what you are. _

Roger's eyes began to bleed light tears of salty water.

_An evil, evil sadist with sadist thoughts and a sadist mind. No matter how hard you try you will never leave me my lovely fly. For you will always be _

_apart of me. For I am The Lord Of The Flies._

Roger knew no words to express his vivid heart, beating so hard, so fast almost too much for his body to handle. The laughter sputtered again, and

Roger searched his head for a pray to repeat to scare away the evil spirit. Roger went to bed that night with that voice ghosting over his holy

thoughts.

It was down to Roger and another cardinal. Both were equally qualified, except for one aspect, Roger was born into the religion. Later in the

afternoon the news was broke, and Roger couldn't be happier to accept the title and power.

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**Well that was less painful than I thought it was going to be! want to tell me other wise? Then write a review at the bottom of the page and go at it **

**on how ****great/terrible/fudge ice cream I am of writer! **


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